Майкл Ридпат - The Wanderer

‘What did you wonder?’

‘Well. You probably know that we were re-excavating an area that had been dug eighty years before. That meant that all the contexts were confused around the trench. They missed stuff: in those days they used shovels; now we use brushes. We found all kinds of things they didn’t see. So it’s perfectly possible, likely even, that those archaeologists would have missed a wampum shell. But all of them? I checked the reports of the excavation from the nineteen thirties, and there was nothing about finding a shell with a hole drilled into it.’

‘Did you mention your doubts to Einar?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Einar is a good archaeologist. He has a great reputation. And he is cautious, usually. Cynical, even.’

Magnus could believe that.

‘So I didn’t want to doubt him.’

‘Did he intimidate you?’ Magnus asked. ‘Threaten you?’

‘No, no, nothing like that. And my doubts were just that. It was my opinion, not evidence.’

‘What about Carlotta? Did you get to know her well?’

‘Pretty well. There weren’t many of us on the dig and we were thrust together for weeks on end. It was a pretty good bunch,’ Anya said, looking to Eygló for confirmation.

Eygló nodded.

‘Usually there is one jerk who annoys the hell out of everyone else, but I don’t remember that at Brattahlíd.’

‘What was she like, Carlotta?’

‘She was good fun. Lively. Smart. Quite frankly, it was good to have an Italian around. You can have too many Danes and Icelanders.’ This with a teasing glance at Eygló.

Eygló grinned. ‘It’s true.’

‘Did you notice anything between Carlotta and Einar?’

Anya smiled. ‘Oh yes. I think it started after Carlotta made the discovery. They tried to be discreet, but we were all packed together in that school building, and everyone noticed. It was almost like she’d gotten a gold star for finding the treasure.’

‘What was their relationship like? Could you tell?’

The smile disappeared. ‘It was classic professor — student. She worshipped him and was flattered he was interested in her; he thought she was young and attractive and wanted to get in her pants. And he did.’

Magnus nodded. ‘And did you stay in touch with Carlotta?’

‘Not really. We were friends on Facebook. I might have seen a couple of updates, but actually I think she usually posted in Italian. Until this summer when she contacted me.’

‘How did she contact you? Facebook?’

‘No. Email. She must have gotten my address from the university website.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘She asked me if I had any doubts about the wampum. I told her I was concerned that they hadn’t found a single shell in the nineteen thirties and that seemed odd.’

‘Did you ask her why she suddenly wanted to know?’

‘Yes. I mean, it did seem strange, since she was the one who discovered the shells. She would be the last person who would want to undermine her own discovery.’

Magnus nodded.

‘She said that she had found documentary evidence that Thorfinn Karlsefni and Gudrid had travelled to Nantucket. That sounded pretty cool to me. Carlotta said that it sounded cool to her, but she had just discovered something that put the evidence in doubt. And that had gotten her thinking about the wampum.’

‘Did she say what this thing was?’

‘No. And she wouldn’t be specific about the nature of the documentary evidence either, but she did say she suspected who had forged it, whatever “it” was, and who had planted it. I assumed it must be a new copy of a saga or something. She was being coy about it, and I didn’t like that — it didn’t seem necessary.’

‘And all this was by email?’

‘Yes.’

Magnus was frustrated. If the Italian police had got their act together, he would have had that information by now, without having to travel to a godforsaken hillside in Greenland to get it.

‘Do you know what it was, this documentary evidence?’ Anya asked.

Magnus nodded.

‘And?’

Magnus thought there was no reason to keep the information from Anya, so he told her about the Columbus letter. And then he told her that the wampum was fake; or that it was real wampum, but that it hadn’t arrived there by Viking longship but by modern airliner, and it had been planted at Brattahlíd in 1980.

‘My God!’ said Anya. ‘And that’s the story you were doing the documentary about?’

Eygló nodded.

‘It would be a great story.’

‘If it was true,’ Eygló said. ‘But it’s all a hoax.’

‘So you’ll have to cancel the TV documentary?’

‘No choice,’ said Eygló.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Anya winced in sympathy. Then she turned to Magnus. ‘But does all this have anything to do with Carlotta’s murder?’

It was a good question. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, thinking of Rósa and Einar and jealousy.

Anya frowned. ‘Hmm,’ she said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

‘Yes?’ said Magnus. ‘You didn’t tell Einar when you had doubts before. You have doubts now?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Anya. ‘But it is similar. It seems like too much of a coincidence. Carlotta discovers that all this stuff is fake and is killed before she has a chance to tell anyone about it? I don’t know. It doesn’t sound right to me, but you’re the policeman.’

She had a point. ‘You may have heard a woman was murdered in the Blomsterdalen yesterday? An Icelandic woman.’

‘They told us at the hostel this morning,’ said Anya. ‘I was going to ask, is that related?’

‘Yes, we think so. She was Einar’s wife.’

‘Ah.’ Anya frowned. ‘Do you think Einar killed her?’

‘They do,’ said Eygló. ‘They’ve locked him up. But I know they are wrong.’

‘Without giving too much away about our investigation, we think Carlotta’s death has more to do with her sexual relationship with Einar than with the wampum or this Columbus letter.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Anya. Then she looked straight at Magnus. ‘It still doesn’t add up.’

There was no sign of Noah, and although Anya was willing to offer Magnus and Eygló a lift back to Brattahlíd, she couldn’t. One of her team had taken the Land Rover to the dock and crossed the fjord to Narsarsuaq to get supplies. She was expected back in an hour or so, and Anya suggested they wait.

Magnus said he would prefer to walk; good exercise, clean air and isolation might clear his head. It needed clearing and he wasn’t sure why. He was disappointed when Eygló volunteered to join him, but they strode the first couple of miles in silence. Magnus set a good pace, but Eygló was fit and intrepid. And her legs, although short, moved fast.

The hills were bustling with bees and small birds. A pair of ravens dodged in and out of thermals by a cliff high to their left. The red dirt track crunched underneath. The air bit cool and refreshing into their cheeks.

Magnus’s brain emptied.

But then Eygló broke the rhythm. ‘You know Einar didn’t kill Rósa, don’t you, Magnús?’

Magnus let his irritation show. ‘Can you shut up about that? Figuring out the identity of a perpetrator isn’t a question of what you believe. It’s a question of evidence.’

‘Well, in that case, your evidence is all wrong.’

‘Look. Inspector Paulsen is the investigating officer. She is working on the assumption that Rósa killed Carlotta at Glaumbaer and so Einar stabbed Rósa. She has got a team of well-trained police officers gathering evidence. They will find people who saw Einar near the scene of the crime. They will find forensic evidence that puts him there. It probably won’t take them that long.’